


Mental Task (In The Flesh rewrite)

by Slenders1ckn3ss



Category: Fazbear's Frights, Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Body Horror, Gen, Head Injury, Psychological Horror, Reality Bending, Rebirth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26268391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slenders1ckn3ss/pseuds/Slenders1ckn3ss
Summary: Bunny Call's In The Flesh was terrible so I rewrote it without the gross mpreg. Also Matt isn't a jerk any more because honestly no one likes misogyny.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	Mental Task (In The Flesh rewrite)

_Five Nights at Freddy’s._ The best-selling horror game series, based on the real-life locations of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. And Matt was lucky enough to work on it. 

Freddy Fazbear’s was, or at least appeared to be, a completely normal pizza-slash-arcade, designed for kids and adults alike, with a stage featuring singing, anthropomorphic animatronics. Early on, the management found that people, especially kids, were horribly afraid of the bear, chicken, rabbit, and fox animatronics instead of being entertained by them, so to help, they developed the game. It was a simple game, without even any walking in it, and told the story of a thief who’d broken into the pizzeria and was attacked by the animatronics, holing himself in the office so he was able to watch the cameras. The sequel soon followed, and a sequel after that. The message was always the same - the animatronics only hurt the bad guys. They protect the kids. 

It worked, somehow. Within a year, kids were flocking to Freddy’s, cheering for the campy songs about pizza and skeeball. Kids were buying merch. Kids were interested in more games. 

Matt remembered being young on his first visit, very young, and standing at the base of the stage, looking up at the tall creatures. He remembered feeling both terrified and amazed, seeing their jerky movements, flappy mouths, rolling eyes. Things that should not move were moving, and it scared him. But it intrigued him. Close enough, and he could hear the gears whirring, the pneumatics hissing, the joints clicking. It felt like looking behind the veil, like a secret he wasn’t supposed to know. 

When Matt turned twelve, he spent his birthday at Freddy’s, though he was concerned that he was a little too old for the baby games and the silly music. But while he sat with his friends and ate pizza, he’d seen an older kid, maybe a high schooler, in the arcade.

“They still got my favorite game!” the high schooler said, and headed straight for the Whack-a-Nedd. The game had seven open holes, out of which a Freddy Fazbear look-alike would pop up. Each bear figure had a little red straw boater hat wiggling on a spring, a contrast to Freddy’s black top hat. When you hit the hat with the soft mallet connected to the game, Nedd’s eyes would roll around and he would retreat back into the hole with a loud, Southern-tinted “Ouch!” 

And then tickets would pour out. The high schooler got just enough of them to get a coloring book at the prize counter, which he received happily. He sat down with his friends to eat pizza. 

“I’m gonna work here next year,” he said, Matt close enough to overhear. 

“Why, bro? You wanna hang out with all these kids?” 

The high schooler shook his head, grinning. “Well, really, I wanna be an engineer. Imagine making a game, or one of those robots. Maybe I’ll even get ‘em to walk!” 

“Can you get ‘em to be less creepy?” his friend scoffed. 

“They’re not creepy! They’re cool! I like how they move.” 

“You’re weird, man. This place is for babies.” his other friend said, flipping through the coloring pages before finding a picture to color.

“I mean, maybe. But someone’s gotta make this stuff, right? And those people aren’t babies. Plus, engineers make a ton of money. Win-win.” 

Matt looked back at his friends, then at the animatronics. And he smiled. It was okay to like them, he decided. You could like anything you wanted to, and no one could make you not like it.

A year or so later, the games came out, and Matt had been smitten. Yes, he loved the characters - he always had - but there was something else about it that sparked an interest. The simple-yet-challenging gameplay intrigued him. He had to know how it worked, and thanks to a very enthusiastic coding teacher, he soon had the code laid out before him, a digital autopsy for him to pick and prod and discover. The numbers unraveled their secrets before his eyes, and he was as amazed as he’d been when he’d first visited Freddy’s. He was peeking behind the veil again, and this time, he knew what he could do. 

He started by exploiting all of the game’s secrets. The hidden images, rare screens and encounters, and hidden beta endings were all at his fingertips. Then he delved deeper. He touched this code, poked that other, discovered what worked - and what crashed the game. 

Soon he was making his own game, though it was just a copy of the code he’d discovered, with the characters replaced with assets he’d made himself or used from free websites. Online guides and videos taught him how to manipulate the code and bend it to his will. He didn’t publish the first game he’d made. He was too embarrassed. 

But he published the second. And the third. Fangames for the Freddy’s series weren’t a rarity, and his games didn’t stand out too much among them. Still, Matt kept going, making his own games as he climbed through his college classes and topped his ladder with a Bachelor’s in programming. 

Along the way, he also found Hannah. 

He’d met her in their shared chemistry class, a required non-major course that was simple enough. They’d paired up when Matt had trouble lighting his Bunsen burner, and Hannah happened to be handy with a flame. From that moment, they’d been inseparable, friends at first and quickly to something more. They’d married shortly after graduation, in a small but close ceremony. Whenever anyone asked how they’d met, Matt would reply, with a warm and fond smile, with “We had chemistry. And then she sparked my flame.” 

To which Hannah would reply, “He almost blew up the lab.” And they’d laugh. 

After a year, Matt finally landed his dream job. He got to make Freddy’s games for a living! Even starting at the bottom was a blast, because he got to test the new game before anyone else got to see it, glitches and all. Soon he was making backgrounds and dealing with things like skyboxes and clipping. 

And now? Now he was creating characters for the new virtual reality game. He even got to create the main protagonist, a moldy, rotting human in a rabbit suit. His name was Springtrap, and he was supposed to be the reanimated body of the thief from the first game. As the games went on, he was revealed to be a murderer as well, and he had been killed by being stuffed into one of the animatronic suits. Now, an undead amalgamation of human and machine, he was cursed to wander an endless maze. 

The player in the new game would try to escape the maze before running into Springtrap or one of the three other animatronics that Matt’s coworkers were creating. But while the other animatronics were just mindless robots, Springtrap was a murderer. It was Matt’s duty to make him the scariest, most terrifying murderer in the series. 

“All right, buddy. Let’s see what we’re working with.” Matt booted up the program and got his VR headset ready, tying back his wavy black hair into a sort of pseudo-man-bun. He typed in some things from his programming window, mainly loading up assets that hadn’t been added to the game yet. However, he did make sure to put himself on ‘godmode’. That meant he would be essentially invisible to Springtrap and wouldn’t get jumpscared until he took godmode off. He was just testing the level and mechanics right now, and he was eager to see Springtrap. 

Of course, Matt knew what Springtrap looked like from the other games. But the designers had really outdone themselves this time. He spawned Springtrap in the middle of one of the maze’s corridors and then put the VR visor on. 

“Oh...wow.” 

The rabbit stood with both arms outstretched to the sides - the standard T-pose. Matt hadn’t programmed any AI or movements yet, so Springtrap would stand like this for now. Matt could get a good look at him from all angles. 

Wires, rods, and stained green fur jutted out from every angle. Within gaps of the plush covering, Matt could see bones, flesh, tubes that might’ve been veins, all in sickly colors of green, dark yellow, and black. The skin of the man had turned a dark purple with rot and age, but there was not too much of that left. The eyes of the animatronic, right now staring blankly ahead, looked almost fake, glassy and dull and sunken in. Matt wasn’t sure if they were supposed to be the plastic animatronic’s eyes or the eyes of the human within it. 

“Gross,” Matt chuckled, though his tone said he was clearly impressed. He moved the VR camera a little closer until he would’ve been right up beside Springtrap. And it was then that the fear kicked in, the same fear and amazement he’d felt looking up on the stage at Freddy’s. 

Springtrap was _big_. He towered over Matt in what must’ve been eight or nine feet, and Matt had to crane his neck to look up at him. Matt was by no means a short fellow, sporting a good, average six feet (six-foot-five from the VR’s perspective, since Matt could be taller if he wanted to just by changing a few numbers), but being next to this monster made him feel tiny. 

“M-maybe I should scale you back a little,” he said, making his note aloud. He slipped off the headset, noting a bit of dizziness as he refocused on his computer. He despawned Springtrap and spent the rest of his day in normal testing, making sure the maze’s movement system and door mechanics worked.

“How was work, honey?” 

Hannah got home about an hour before Matt did, and since Matt tended to work late, it was always an hour more. Hannah was unpacking a few styrofoam containers of Thai food from a bag. Matt kissed her cheek before getting some plates and forks. Despite looking tired from work, she looked lovely as usual, with her golden-bronze hair tied in a side-braid that rested on her left shoulder. Minimal makeup still decorated her face, accenting her smiling eyes and high cheekbones. She looked as though she was always cheerful, always positive, even after a hard day.

“Good. I’m doing some initial testing now. The game’s gonna be really awesome, I just know it.” 

Hannah gave a somewhat strained smile. “Of course it will be. You’re the one working on it. A lot.” The last words were a sigh, somewhat under her breath. 

“Sorry, I know you think it’s boring. I’ll shut up about it.” He smiled and started to load his plate with spicy noodles. “How was your day?” 

She was silent, thinking. Her mouth was pursed in an upset sort of way, but when she looked at him, she smiled. “Evaluation day. I passed, of course.” 

“Of course you did,” Matt nodded. “You’re the best PA in the whole building.” 

They sat down to watch a movie while they ate, but Matt wasn’t paying attention. Between bites of panang and steamed rice, he was thinking about the maze. The door sounds hadn’t synched up. The maze’s generation wasn’t satisfying enough. And he hadn’t even started on Springtrap’s AI. How should that go? Progressively aggressive, certainly - calm on the first few nights, frenzied on the last nights. He still had to match up the voice lines- 

“Matt!” 

He blinked back to reality, looking at Hannah in confusion. Credits were rolling - how long had he been thinking? 

“S-sorry,” Matt said with a sheepish grin. Hannah’s brows met with annoyance. 

“God, you haven’t even been listening.” She sighed and stood up, taking her plate to the kitchen. His own plate was still half-loaded and now cold. “I can’t even talk to you.” 

“No - wait. I’m really sorry, Hannah. I just spaced out.” 

“You’re always in space,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Can you even tell me what the movie was about?” 

“No,” he said after hesitating. What was her deal? It didn’t even matter - it wasn’t like it was a rental. They could watch it again at any time. 

“Or what I was saying?”

Oh. Yeah, that was kind of important. “I - no?” 

“I want a family. I want a kid like the little girl in the movie. I want to be happy like that family was.” She sat back down next to him. “Matt, I want a child.” 

The color drained from Matt’s face. It wasn’t that he didn’t like kids - he made games for kids every day. He thought a lot about the things they found scary or comforting. It was important for his job. But having his own kid? When they both had jobs? Lives?

“Hannah, we’ve talked about this. I’m just not ready.” 

“But I _am_ , Matt. I’m ready. How long do I have to wait for _you_ to be ready?”

He couldn’t answer that. He just looked away. 

“I’ll be in bed,” she huffed, standing and marching towards the hallway. 

Matt sat for a moment in the silence before getting up. He took his office laptop out of his bag and opened it up on the coffee table. _Just a few notes,_ he decided, _just a few before I lose the ideas. Then I’ll go to bed, she’ll be calmed down, and then everything will go back to normal. We’ll talk about the baby thing on another day._

It was past midnight when Matt finally got to bed. Hannah was already asleep, her back to him, and she didn’t move as he slipped under the covers.

Matt woke up by himself. This wasn’t unusual. Hannah’s job started early, and she was generally up before he was, though her preparations generally woke him. He must’ve been tired last night if he didn’t hear her leave. 

He got up, showered, got ready for work, stopped in the kitchen for some coffee and avocado toast, and set off for the office. There was a lot to do today. Today he would start programming Springtrap’s AI. 

Matt had done a lot of research. Not just on AI basics - that was child’s play - but on how a killer would move, how he would react, how he would hunt. He studied some videos on stalking cheetahs and tigers for ideas on movement, taking some inspiration from zombies he’d seen in movies. The undead had an expected way of moving, after all, and he needed to translate that well. 

Springtrap came to Matt with a basic walk cycle and the movements of the other animatronic enemies in the game. Matt just had to modify it. Within a few hours, Springtrap was the shambling horror that the game deserved, with the potential to break into a sprint when he saw the player in the corridors. 

With VR, since it was difficult to freeroam with the particular setup, the player would choose certain doors in the maze or go back and forth down the maze’s hallways by keeping their gaze on a certain spot and pressing a button on the controllers. Springtrap would be hiding behind the doors, so players had to open them and listen for his breathing before continuing onward. Other than that, Springtrap would not be in the maze. The player might see him in a scripted scene, running after them as they dashed behind a door, but this was just to scare them. It wouldn’t be an attack. 

The other enemies made certain noises and could be deterred in a variety of ways. The player could make noise as a distraction, or stay absolutely still as a blind enemy passed by them. They were not smart. Not as smart as Springtrap.

Matt was proud of himself. His Springtrap used a variety of feints and tricks to lure the player towards the wrong door. Springtrap would use his simple, short voice lines to call to the player or chase them elsewhere, then appear behind the door they were most likely to use. Then he would pounce, like the tigers Matt studied. The player’s death animation involved Springtrap pinning the player down, and the camera would pull back as the rotten rabbit repeatedly stabbed the player’s avatar before a ghastly, blood-spattered GAME OVER would appear.

Already, Matt had died twice. He was so proud. 

“Needs balance, though,” Matt noted aloud. He tended to remember his notes when he spoke them aloud, or to his programmer duck, Hermes. “Turn down AI in the first two nights. Max it out for the bonus levels. And look for cross mechanics - The door creaks make noise that triggers Music Man if the levels are too high. Also, there’s-” 

“ _Matt_.” 

Matt jumped. He took off the headset and looked around, but no one had come into his office. He put the equipment down and opened his office door. Jaime was headed back to her office. She paused to greet him. 

“Hey, how’s it going?”

“Did you call me?” Matt asked, confused. It hadn’t sounded like her voice. It had sounded like a whisper. But she was the only one around. She looked equally confused. 

“No? I’m just coming back from break.” 

“Oh.” Matt rubbed his cheek. “Okay. I thought I heard…” He trailed off, looking over his shoulder. 

“You okay? Maybe you should take a break, too.” She tilted her head at him, then took a sip of coffee.

“Yeah. Maybe. M-maybe in a bit. I just gotta finish this part.” 

“All right. Take it easy.” She shrugged and continued to her office. Matt watched her walk off, as if making sure it wasn’t really her who said his name. Maybe he was just hearing things. He ducked back into the office and resumed his work.

“Back to the maze, Theseus,” he chuckled, tapping Hermes on the head and making him squeak softly before Matt made some corrections on the program. When he was done and his progress saved, he donned the headset again. 

This time, things seemed… weird. The top of the maze had an error texture on it, harsh purple and black squares where the graphic should be. It was distracting. Some other elements had the same error pattern, like decorations that should’ve been on the walls and floor. The place where a crumbling bit of wall had fallen to the floor was replaced with a transparent block of letters that just said MISSING. 

Matt made a note to look at that. He must’ve fudged something when he modified the code. He continued down the maze until he came to the first room of doors. He pressed against the first one on his right and used the control to open it. Another press would push him through, if Springtrap wasn’t in the way. He listened for the strained breathing.

“Rend… flesh…” 

Matt jumped, instinctively closing the door. Was that the voice line? It sounded little more than a hiss in the darkness. Matt waited a moment before opening the door again. 

He could see the rabbit in the darkness, drenched in shadow. The dim light revealed the torn fur, the shining metal within. Matt could see the snout of the rabbit, mottled like aged rubber, dark green at the nose. He could see into the rabbit’s mouth, the bricklike yellowed teeth and, beyond that, the bare skull of the killer. This close, he could almost feel the aura of presence, as if someone in real life was standing beside him. Springtrap shifted softly, the noise of plush bristling against the wall bringing goosebumps on Matt’s arms. Straining, Matt heard the whispering: 

_Rend flesh, break bone_ _  
__I’ll make your body my own_

He closed the door again. Nope. Nope nope nope. That wasn’t supposed to happen. What kind of voice line was that, anyway?! Wasn’t this supposed to be for kids?!

He made a note to check it later. It must’ve been wrong - a line he wasn’t supposed to use. Springtrap’s lines were mostly raspy breathing and groans of agony, maybe a choked-out “Help me” or “Come here”, but nothing like _poetry_. 

Matt moved to another door. He opened it and was about to pass through - after all, Springtrap had been found - when he paused. 

Springtrap was there, too. Matt saw him in the darkness. The rotten teeth. The decaying rubber nose.

 _Rend flesh, break bone_ _  
__I’ll make your body my own  
_ _Bone break, flesh rend,  
_ _Through you, I’ll be born again!_

“Nope!” 

Without hesitation, Matt took the headset off. He set it on the desk and backed away from it, hands out as if shooing away the invisible Springtrap. He spun around, getting his bearings. “Nooooo way, sir. Hoo boy, no way. That’s a big nope from me!” 

Had to change that. Had to fix the lines. He tried to mess with the programming, but the computer seemed to have frozen. 

“Fine. That’s fine! I don’t want to save anything I’ve done anyway.” 

He pressed the reset button on the desktop. Nothing happened. Shaking his head, he reached for the power button. 

A hard shock jolted from the computer to his body, thundering along every nerve until it escaped through his bare feet on the floor. Matt was stunned, dizzy, and he stumbled backwards. Something tightened around one calf, and he fell backwards with a loud thump. 

Matt woke to see into the very concerned face of Greg, his boss. His head throbbed immensely, so much that the edges of his vision pulsed red. He groaned as he sat up, but Greg started to push him back down. 

“Whoa, wait! Hold still - what if you broke your spine and-” 

“I just tripped and hit my head,” Matt chuckled through the pain, waving Greg’s hands away. “I’m fine. I just fell.” 

“Oh. Well, I called the ambulance-”

“The what? You _what_?!” Matt looked past Greg. In his office doorway he saw Jaime, her hands hovering gently over her mouth with concern. Several other coworkers were there as well, all looking with curiosity or worry. Matt forced a smile and waved at them. “No - see, I’m okay.” 

Greg sat back and allowed Matt to sit up. Matt felt around to the back of his head. There was a big goose-egg on the back of his skull, hard and painful to the touch. Looking at his feet, he saw the cable of the VR headset, wrapped around his leg. He must’ve tangled himself in it when Springtrap made him panic. 

The EMTs arrived a moment afterward, pushing through Matt’s coworkers. They looked a little confused upon seeing Matt sitting up. 

“Oh… We got a report there was someone unresponsive?” 

Matt raised a hand guiltily. “Just woke up. Tripped.” 

The EMTs checked him over. Their concern was a concussion, but Matt refused to let them take him. It wasn’t a big deal, not worth a hospital visit. Since he wasn’t in any dire straits, the EMTs gave him some advice - don’t fall asleep for more than two hours, if you feel nausea or dizziness get to the ER - to which he agreed. Hannah could help him once he got home. 

Greg approached him again once the EMTs had left and everyone else had cleared out. “So, naturally, you’re going home, right? Do you need a ride, or-” 

Matt looked confused. “What? No. I’m fine, Greg. I can still work.” 

“Oh, no. Put a pin in everything and get back to it tomorrow. I’m not gonna be responsible if you have an aneurism in your own office.” Greg patted Matt’s shoulder. “Take your laptop home and work on it from there. When you’re not resting, of course.” 

“Yeah… okay. I can’t do any testing, though.” 

“No, you’re not doing VR testing with a head injury,” Greg agreed. “But we’ve got testers. Nessa can do it, or Jeremy. You know they’ll send you reports.” 

Matt thought for a moment. Springtrap was _his_ baby. _He_ was supposed to be handling all of it, even the testing. But his head was aching so badly that he didn’t want to argue. Right now he just wanted to go home. “Okay, you win. Sure. But I’ll be in touch.” 

“Go to the ER if you get worse!” Greg called after him as Matt left.

He immediately pulled out his work laptop when he got home. He had to fix things. The untextured ceilings, the missing assets… 

Springtrap’s odd lines.

He sat the computer on his coffee table, grabbing a bottle of water as he waited for it to wake up. He chugged the whole thing, to his own surprise, and quickly grabbed another. His head still ached. He went to the bathroom for some medicine.

While there, he caught a look at himself in the mirror. His face was pale, blood drained from him, and he was sticky with sweat. He hadn’t even realized he was sweating. On the drive home, all he could think about was fixing the game, repairing Springtrap, making the AI into what he wanted. Looking back, perhaps the car had been a little warm. 

_Hm. Not bad._ said a husky, crumbling voice.

“Excuse me?” Matt said aloud. He could’ve sworn the voice came from… from… somewhere. He looked out into the hallway, confused. 

_I certainly could have done worse. Although your head is quite a mess._

“Wh-where are you?” Matt half-yelped, looking into the bedroom. The voice sounded like it was right behind him, but he was alone. 

_Where do you think I am, genius? I’m inside of you._

Matt froze. He took in a deep breath and exhaled, trying to relax, picturing that one-day meditation class Greg had made them all take. A sharp pain in his head was the immediate response, followed by a cruel, teasing laugh. 

“M-must’ve hit my head harder than I thought,” he said aloud. “I’m hearing things.” 

_I’m not a thing_ , the voice hissed angrily. Matt ignored it, heading back to his laptop. On the way, he staggered, leaning on a wall to steady himself.

“Just gotta get back to work,” he told himself, again aloud. “And maybe stop talking out loud. I’m going crazy enough already.” 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, staring at the front door instead of his laptop, before he snapped to reality. The computer’s clock said it was past time for Hannah to come home. Maybe she was working late. Hannah would know what to do. She was a PA, after all. She dealt with things like these, surely. 

Matt sat back. He actually wasn’t sure what areas Hannah dealt with, or even the doctor whose PA she was. He rubbed his head. Surely he did know. He would know something like that about the person he loved most. He just forgot right now, that was all. He forgot and his brain hurt too much to remember.

He would just ask when she got back. In the meantime, he should start working. Matt opened up the program and took a look at the code, reminding himself what he wanted to work on.

"Replace the wallwalls," he said, typing. "Fix the textextextures…" 

Wait, what? Matt shook his head and re-read his code. It was all gibberish, just random keystrokes. 

_Hmph, you go through all of that work and now you don’t want to talk to me? I’m insulted, frankly. It’s rude. It’s rude not to address your creation._

“Go ‘way,” Matt groaned. He looked down at his hands. Somehow they didn't feel like his anymore. He tried to stand up only to discover that he was standing already. The room swirled. 

"Maymaymaybe I do neneed to go to the hospimergency room," he groaned. 

_Maybe so_ , said the voice. _I think you’ll need some sort of help very soon._

“What makemakes you say that?” Matt answered angrily. Did the invisible voice that certainly wasn’t happening know something that Matt didn’t? 

Impossible. 

Matt picked up his phone and dialed Hannah’s number. It rang for a few times before going to voicemail. He called back. Two calls were a sure sign to her that something was wrong. This time it rang twice before cutting off. 

_Now_ **_she’s_ ** _ghosting_ **_you_ ** _. See how you like it?_

He stared at the phone in his hand. It suddenly seemed like a foreign object, as though he’d never seen or held one before. He blinked at it, studying it, before Hannah’s name and number lit up on it. She was calling. 

“He-hello?” he said, realizing that his voice sounded odd, dry. Didn’t he just gulp down a whole bottle? Did he need another? Would he even be able to talk to her without messing up his-

“Matt, for the love of-” 

“What?” Oh no. Had she been talking?

“You have no response to that?” 

“To what?” 

Hannah gave an exasperated sigh. “This is my point. We just can’t do this any more. I can’t do this. I’m leaving, Matt. I’m staying at my mom’s tonight. I’ll come by and get some things later but we’re not discussing this further.” 

The room around Matt suddenly became ten times darker. Shadows swirled in the corners. Ice crawled along Matt’s limbs, both freezing him and weighing him in place. 

He understood. He loved Hannah. But he didn’t want the things she wanted. He couldn’t even remember what she did for a living. What was her maiden name? Surely he knew. But his brain hurt, his head hurt, and it hurt to try and remember. 

“Okay,” he said softly. 

_You’re not even going to fight for her? Hm, did I choose a weak one after all?_

Matt ignored the voice. It didn’t exist anyway. God, his head hurt. 

“Okay? Just okay?” 

“We’re not disdisdiscussing this father. F-further. You said.” 

Hannah paused. “Matt, are you okay?” 

He considered telling her that he’d fallen at work. It would make her come back, possibly make her feel sorry for him. That would buy him some time, at least. Let him get himself back together, after he healed of course. 

But he could not make his mouth move to answer. However Hannah took his silence, she chose to continue without his answer. 

“Matt, I love you. I do. But we’re two different people. I want you to be happy. And I know you want the same for me.” 

He did. He wanted her to be happy. Now his eyes burned. He reached to them, pulling away wet fingers. Tears. 

“I’m sorry,” Hannah said, and hung up. Matt let the phone slip from his hand. It plopped onto the carpet. 

The room was filled with moving shadows. The walls didn’t look normal. They looked like the walls of the maze. On impulse, he looked at the ceiling. Purple and black squares. Dizzily, he reached to touch the back of his head. 

The hard goose-egg from earlier now felt like an ostrich egg. The lump was massive, even parting his hair in back. His man-bun had slipped the hair tie a long time ago. The lump was no longer a hard swell, either. It felt… it felt… 

He jerked his hand away in disgust. Had it moved under his touch? Rubbing his fingers together, he realized that they were coated in something gooey. It wasn’t blood. It was clear. 

Matt dropped to his knees. Where was his phone? He had to call for help! He found the small black rectangle and fumbled his hands around it. The screen lit up, but Matt could not make heads or tails of it. The numbers may as well have been alien language, and he could not think of the correct pattern for emergency services. What would he tell them, anyway? _How_ could he tell them? 

_Game over._

His brain suddenly gave out a huge sigh. Like a breath from meditation. Except it was physical. Matt couldn’t feel his arms or legs. He flopped on his side onto the carpet. 

Two metal feet crunched down in front of him. He looked up, once again a child in front of that stage, once again in the presence of something big and terrifying and striking.

Springtrap. 

The rabbit leaned down and picked up the front of Matt’s shirt, lifting him from the ground. Matt’s feet didn’t even touch as Springtrap brought them face to face. 

“I suppose I should thank you, _father_ ,” the corpse inside the rabbit hissed. Then he dropped Matt, letting him crumble to the floor. 

Matt’s spirit left him before his head hit the ground. 

“Suicide?” one of the police officers at the scene said. 

“Not sure,” said his coworker, from the coroner’s department. “There’s no weapon and I have no idea how you’d do _that_ much damage to yourself. We gotta wait and see what the doc says. What’s with that woman downstairs?” 

“Says she’s his wife. She was gonna leave him, called him to say. He didn’t sound right, so she came back. She told him she was pregnant and I guess he kinda conked on her.” 

The coroner’s officer chewed her lip. “Yeah, I can see why you’d assume he did it himself. What’s that?” 

She knelt down, carefully plucking out something from the carpet with a long pair of tweezers. 

It was a scrap of green, fur-covered fabric, covered in slick, gooey fluid.


End file.
